


still my heart this moment (oh it might burst)

by insertcreativeao3namehere



Category: Love Simon (2018), Simon vs. the Homo Sapiens Agenda - Becky Albertalli
Genre: Book compliant, Communication, Cuddling & Snuggling, Fluff, Intimacy, M/M, POV Bram Greenfeld, Plans For The Future, in terms of timeline, like just really detailed prolonged snuggling tbh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-28
Updated: 2018-04-28
Packaged: 2019-04-29 00:57:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14461647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/insertcreativeao3namehere/pseuds/insertcreativeao3namehere
Summary: They lie there in comfortable silence, wrapped in the warmth of one another, buoyed by the quiet intimacy of it. In this moment, it occurs to Bram again, as it has been more and more lately, that he never wants to not have this. He wants to put it into words: he wants Simon in his future, and more than that, he feels with steady conviction that a future with Simon in it is the best one for him.Bram and Simon talk about the future.





	still my heart this moment (oh it might burst)

**Author's Note:**

> I started writing this before Leah on the Offbeat was released and then got entirely distracted from it. Set before LOTO timeline-wise, so between the two Creekwood books. Don't want to spoil anyone who hasn't read it, but I have tweaked it a bit to be compliant with LOTO.
> 
> Title from Gorecki by Lamb (which is a song I've liked since it was used in Torchwood like a decade ago probably, but which I now HEAVILY associate with Spierfeld). 
> 
> Note: I have very minimal understanding of the U.S. college system, which I'm hoping isn't glaringly obvious.

Bram’s legs are all in a tangle with Simon’s, and he’s tucked close into Simon’s chest. They’re on Simon’s bed, an episode of Brooklyn Nine-Nine playing in the background, but if Bram’s honest, although he adores the show, he isn’t really absorbing it at all at this point. He can feel Simon’s mouth against the crown of his head, just sort of settled and breathing there, like Simon moved to kiss his head and then just didn’t bother moving away. The door’s shut – Simon’s parents gave up on having an open-door policy a while ago at this point, having decided that, in Jack’s own words, “teenagers gonna teenage” and, if they were going to be sexually active, it was better off for them to be in the house and safe. That was an excruciating conversation that Bram is very glad is behind them now.

 

Right now, though, they aren’t doing anything like that. They have before, and it’s thrilling and all-consuming and incredible, but right now is a different kind of incredible. He can feel Simon’s every breath in the shifting of his chest, in the exhales against his hair. Their legs are hooked together, sides pressed close, intertwined as close as they can be, and Bram feels like his heart might burst. Not in that uncomfortable way it used to feel, before he was even able to talk to Simon. His heart used to race and his hands would get clammy and he wouldn’t be able to get words out coherently. It was an endless source of frustration, and it made him wish he could be different, as eloquent outwardly as he could be in his head or via the written word. Before, the way his heart would seize up was distressing and awkward. Now, it’s warmth and contentment and completeness. His heart is fit to burst, yet he couldn’t be more calm.

 

The episode ends, and the next one isn’t going to autoplay. Normally that would be annoying, but Bram can’t really bring himself to care.

 

“I don’t really want to move,” Simon says softly, against Bram’s hair. It’s not in an imploring, you-get-up-and-do-the-thing kind of way, though Simon certainly talks like that often, in a cheeky and endearing kind of way. It’s just a simple statement.

 

“Me neither,” Bram replies. They lie there in comfortable silence, wrapped in the warmth of one another, buoyed by the quiet intimacy of it. In this moment, it occurs to Bram again, as it has been more and more lately, that he never wants to not have this. He wants to put it into words: he wants Simon in his future, and more than that, he feels with steady conviction that a future with Simon in it is the best one for him.

 

Bram turns his head to look at Simon, only to find that Simon’s eyes are already on him. His heart stutters, briefly, then settles again. He meets Simon’s eyes, shifts around so that they’re properly facing each other, arms draped over one another’s sides. “Hi,” he says, redundantly.

 

Simon giggles, reaches up to tap his nose. “Hi, you,” he says back.

 

Bram takes in a steadying breath and shifts his hand to run it along Simon’s side, rubbing his thumb there as a half-distraction, studiously examining Simon’s collarbone instead of watching his face. “I’ve been thinking about the future,” he says softly, before he can chicken out of giving voice to the thoughts running through his head. He’s always, always found it easier to write down things this important rather than saying them out loud.

 

“Yeah?” Simon asks, an uptick in his voice, both a question and a denotation of how he’s feeling, happiness discernible in his tone.

 

“Yeah,” Bram replies, ducking his head into Simon’s chest. “Just…” he trails off, pleased that Simon seems receptive to the kind of heavy conversation topic but wanting to gather the muddled thoughts in his head, word them carefully. He finds, when he’s nervous or worried or embarrassed or anything along those lines, that he probably uses sentence fragments more than even Simon does. When he’s writing, he has time to weigh everything. Verbally, everything is a bit too stream-of-consciousness by necessity, and it just feels so exposing.

 

Bram takes another fortifying breath and continues. “I know there’s this kind of expectation that high school relationships don’t necessarily… last forever.” He pauses slightly, then goes on with the nerve-induced fragmented sentences. “And I don’t want to be unrealistic, because I know everybody probably thinks they’re the ones that are different, and everyone who’s in any kind of long-term relationship probably thinks it will last forever, because otherwise what’s even the point? Unless you’re just in it for the sake of it, which is just sucky.” He really has picked up so many of Simon’s speech habits over the past eight months. Longer, really – Simon’s little ways of wording things have been infiltrating his thought processes since the emails started.

 

Bram shifts his head back a little to steal a glance at Simon’s face, just a quick one. Simon looks thoughtful, and he isn’t interrupting Bram’s halting ramble, which Bram greatly appreciates.

 

 _He’s so beautiful._ Bram gets distracted momentarily by that simple fact, which happens… often. He shakes himself a little, figuratively, to break out of it.

 

“But at the same time, as cliché as it is to… believe yourself to be the exception, I do believe we can last. I want you to be in my future.” Bram breathes out shakily and sneaks another glance at Simon’s face, in time to catch the slow smile that blooms across it.

 

Simon’s hand skates along Bram’s back, fingers tracing down over the bumps of his spine, deliciously shivery. He’s still smiling, looking right at Bram, when he says, “I want you to be in my future too.” It’s extremely affirming, that Simon seems to understand what he means.

 

“People can be kinda judgey when teenagers, like, make decisions based on what other people are doing. Especially when it comes to boyfriends,” Simon says, tracing his fingers back up Bram’s spine. “But I don’t see anything wrong with, like, out of all the freaking colleges in the entire country, just, you know… applying to ones near the ones people you want to stay near are applying to.” He pauses. “Wow, that was a convoluted sentence.”

 

“I’m used to you and your convoluted sentences,” Bram replies, and it’s meant to come out jokey, but it kind of doesn’t. “But yeah, that’s exactly what I mean. I get you completely.” They grin at each other, and Bram feels breathless, suspended in the moment for a steady few heartbeats.

 

“So where have you been thinking of applying, then?” Simon asks. His hand is still running up and down, down and up Bram’s back, and it’s just this side of ticklish, sending sparking shivers across his skin. He can feel Simon’s socked toes tucked into his ankles. The physical intimacy of it is comfortable, like a warm blanket, yet still hasn’t ceased to be delightfully electrifying. Sometimes Bram has to stop and revel in it, this ability to be so close to someone, someone as brilliant for him as Simon, for so long.

 

Bram bites his lip. He has a couple of ideas floating around, but one in particular stands out, even if he second guesses the possibility of it, even if it feels a bit pie-in-the-sky. “I have a few ideas,” he says, deflecting, softening the attachment. “But I was thinking, maybe… Columbia?”

 

“That sounds great!” Simon says enthusiastically. “I definitely think that’s, like, achievable. For you, I mean. Like, I actually think you make me a better student than I was, to be honest, but I don’t think I’ll, uh, aim for that myself. NYU, though. I think I’d love to go there, if I could.”

 

“I make you a better student?” Bram asks, surprised.

 

“I mean, yeah,” Simon says, as if it’s obvious. “You’re so studious. Even though studying with you can get, uh… _super_ distracting -” he breaks off to giggle sheepishly – “your habits have, like, totally reformed me. And you’re so good at explaining things. And so, like, patient. And helpful. I’m rambling, please stop me.”

 

Bram chuckles softly, and shifts so that he can comfortably reach his hand up to slide his fingers over the nape of Simon’s neck and into his hair. “Well, I’m glad to hear that then,” he says. “And you know what Mr. Wise always says, teaching it to someone else is the best way to consolidate your own understanding. So like, as nerdy as it is, I kind of love studying with you.”

 

“Same,” Simon says, grinning at him again, dizzyingly bright. Bram grins back, and it’s a whole thing again, this swelling feeling of delight that they’re so squarely on the same page.

 

“I mean, I’m going to apply to other places too,” Simon continues, “don’t want to put all the eggs in one basket or anything.”

 

“Oh, definitely, me too,” Bram agrees immediately.

 

“But maybe we could, like… casually cross-reference our lists?” The uptick in Simon’s voice is again a question, but also sounds like a slight hint of uncertainty this time.

 

“That sounds awesome,” Bram tells him sincerely. Simon beams at him, an actual personified ray of goddamn sunshine, and then leans into Bram and rests his head on Bram’s chest. Bram continues sliding his fingers through Simon’s hair, pressing lightly into his scalp, because Simon’s vocalised how much he likes that many times, and because Bram honestly really loves it too.

 

“Love you,” Simon murmurs into his chest, a gentle exhalation. Bram breathes it in. No matter how many times he hears it, it never fails to comfort and set him alight all at once.

 

“Love you too,” he says back, and they slip back into the comfortable silence.

**Author's Note:**

> This is full of my own headcanons in fic form - e.g. that Simon's parents wouldn't have an open door policy, which I think is influenced by the movie, because parents who don't mind a girl sleeping in their son's room before they know he's gay and rationalise him coming home safe but drunk definitely wouldn't have an open door policy I feel? 
> 
> they'd also definitely love brooklyn nine nine t b h and I don't feel like that's just me projecting, genuinely hilarious + excellent queer and poc rep is a perfect recipe


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